The contest entry
by roxxychik06
Summary: What started out as help with an entry in a fan fiction contest could soon change the course of Bella Swan's life. What happens when a shy, quiet girl meets a guy that wants to rock her words, her world and her heart? She holds on for dear life.


What started out as help with an entry in a fan fiction contest could soon change the course of Bella Swan's life. What happens when a shy, quiet girl meets a guy that wants to rock her world and her heart? She holds on for dear life.

Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever, owned Twilight. This is a MA fic due to language and lemons.

This is my first chapter story. I'm not sure yet how long it is going to be, but I'm going to try to have a new chapter up once a week or so, but don't hold me to that. I'll do my best. This is actually a little later than I expected do to unforeseen problems but that's life with 6 kids.

Chap 1 Overcoming Writer's Block

God I love fan fiction. Sometimes reading fan fiction is about the only thing I can do to escape my fucked up life.

My life up to this point has really sucked. My mom bailed on me when I was 2 and my dad is practically married to his job. To top things off I'm an only child, in other words I have nobody. I'm a naturally shy, introverted person so I don't talk to people unless they talk to me first and then it's only a brief interaction.

The only time I can really let myself out is when I write my fan fiction. I guess it's because it's the closest I'll probably ever come to my real dream of becoming a published author. Through my writing I feel like I can really express myself without fear. When I am writing I can be anybody, go anywhere, do anything.

In real life I am Isabella or Bella Swan. 18 year old college freshman, 5'5" 120lbs. I have boring brown hair and eyes, and a clear pale complexion. In other words, I am completely and totally average, plain, boring.

All this brought me to my current dilemma.

One of my favorite fan fiction authors is holding a contest. I love entering contest. It is a great way to see roughly how I measure up against other more talented authors. Even though I rarely even place it is still a lot of fun.

But this time was a little different. I can't quite put my finger on why, but this contest makes me feel different. For the first time ever I want to win. Not just to enter, not even to simply place, I want to be the best. I still don't understand why.

So here I am sitting in my favorite little cafe. Drinking my grande hot double shot mocha cappuccino with an _extra_ shot of chocolate, heavy foam of course. I am addicted to this drink, I know. As I sit, I stare absentmindedly at the little blinking cursor at the top of the stark white page that is currently open on my computer. In fact, I have been staring at this same blank page for the better part of two hours.

I'm lucky I really don't have anything important I need to do today, because I refuse to leave until I have at least one good idea to at least start with. Right now I have got nothing.

I do what I always do when I'm trying to write and getting frustrated. I type a bunch of random letters and stare angrily at the unintelligible thing now sitting on my no long blank screen.

What the hell am I supposed to do with that? I highlight the whole thing a delete it. Then I select the bulletin option and once again start jotting down random ideas for a story. After another five minutes or so I look at the lists. Once again I have nothing.

I put my hands up to my head and groan. _One good idea, it that really too much to ask, just one freaking good idea_. I hear a voice snicker behind me and freeze. Did I just say that out loud? I do sometimes talk to myself but I try really hard not to do it when others are around.

After a second I look around. Nobody is looking at me nobody seems to notices me at all. But I can't help but feel like there are eyes on me somewhere. I look around again, but this time I look behind me, to the only other table between me and the hall leading to the bathrooms and sure enough there is a guy looking at me. He has this cute little crooked grin on his face as he ignores the books and paper scattered on the table in front of him.

I can't help but notice how hot he is. I really don't like using boring mundane words like hot, fine, and sexy, but those are exactly what this guy is. From the looks of it he's at least six feet tall, built, but not bulky, like he takes care of himself but doesn't live at the gym. I swear his face must be chiseled from some kind of stone; everything about it is perfectly sharp and defined. Then I notice his odd copper colored hair. I have never seen hair that color before, like it couldn't quite make up its mind whether it wants to be brown, red, or blond so it picked all three.

Finally after I had spent way too much time checking this guy out, I look into his startling green eyes, they remind me of the ferns in the woods right after a rain shower. They are a deep rich green with gold flecks, mimicking the patches of sunlight glistening off the still wet plants, and they seem to shimmer like glass as he watches me watch him.

Embarrassingly, I let out a small squeak and turn around as quickly as I can. I know it's no use, I'm totally busted. But maybe, just maybe, my dismissal will keep him from trying to talk to me, or worse calling be out on my staring.

But of course, I am not that lucky. I hear the rustling of papers behind me and then I can feel the heat from his body standing right beside me.

"Having some trouble with something?" he asks. It startles me that he actually sounds like he's concerned for me.

"Nnn-no" I stammer. I really shouldn't have opened my mouth. I just can't talk to people face to face.

"What are you working on exactly?" and before I can even reply he takes a seat in the other chair sitting across from me at the small table. I try not to be worried about a stranger being this close, but I can't help it.

I debate with myself a minute whether or not to answer his question. Unfortunately, just as I decide I am just going to ignore him and hope he goes away, I make the mistake of glancing up. He's staring me with such intensity that before I even realize it I'm answering.

"I'm trying to find something to write about for a contest on my favorite fan fiction sites." I blurt out, then blush a deep red. Why am I even talking to this guy? I shake my head at myself a little. _He's just being friendly calm down, everything's ok_ I tell myself.

"Oh, well what is the contest about?" he inquires smiling.

"It's for that vampire series that came out years ago. It can really be about anything it just has to start the main characters." I once again answer honestly.

"Well what have you got so far?" he continues to stare at me with that intense green gaze.

"Nothing. I guess that's the problem. I can't think of one single good idea. Usually, I don't let it stress me this much, but I really want to prove myself this time, I know I need the perfect topic I just can't think of what that is." I say.

"Well why don't you just write about something from your life?" he asks.

I shake my head furiously. "There is absolutely nothing in my life that I could use to make a story. My past is a train wreck, my present is about as interesting as this coffee cup, and my future..." I can't help the scoff that escapes my thought. "Just no."

For the first time his eyes turn sad. It's like he can hear everything I'm not saying. I don't like it. I'm good at hiding. I have always been a closed book and that's the way I want it. Yet, this man is looking at me like he can read my every thought.

"So that's my problem." I finish lamely.

"Well" he starts to say slowly, like he's pondering the best way to reply to that. "Well, what if we give you something to write about?"

Again I shake my head. "No, see the contest is for erotica. Do you know what that is?" I ask him shyly. I can feel the blush returning to my face just thinking about have a conversation like this with a stranger.

He smiles kindly and nods.

His eyes are back to their intense staring. I can tell he's again debating with himself, and for some reason it has me almost afraid. This man, this stranger, has an unnatural sway on me for some reason and I do not like it one little bit.

"Well" he starts again. "We can still give you something to write about. I would be happy to help in any way."

It takes me a minute to register what exactly he meant, and then I gasp.

In all my life I have never had anyone so openly proposition me. Yet, he doesn't seem contrite or ashamed in the least. In fact he looks completely serious.

This should piss me off, I know it should, but it doesn't. In fact, for the first time in my life I feel butterflies deep in my belly. I also feel something darker, more forbidden lower.

"We wouldn't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. But from the looks of it you really don't have much to go on currently. In fact, just the change of scenery and atmosphere may help clear that writer's block."

He stands up and offers me his hand. "Come on, I have an apartment just at the end of the block. We can hang out and talk or whatever."

Somehow I know my next decision is bigger than just hanging out with some guy at his house. I can't really explain it but there was something, something big.

"Can I at least get a name first?" I finally ask.

The smile that lights up his face is radiant. "My name is Edward. Edward Cullen and you are?"

He holds out his hand as to shake mine.

"Bella Swan." I mutter, taking his hand in mine. Much to my shock, and if I were being honest delight, he does not shake my hand, but rather brings it up to his lips and places a light kiss.

"It is a true pleasure to make your acquaintance miss Bella. So shall we?" He holds out his elbow.

I don't even stop to think. For the first time in my life I just do. I stand up, put my computer away, throw the bag over my head, and take his arm. "Lead the way good Sir." I say with a giggle.

We only walk a few building down the road before Edward stops and turns in. These are really high priced apartments we're entering and I can't help but wonder exactly how old Edward is to be able to afford this.

"My apartment was a graduation present from my parents when I decided to move away for school." Once again it's like he's reading my thoughts.

We walk up the flight of stairs to the second floor and Edward stops at the second apartment and unlocks the door.

He opens the door and we both walk in. I'll admit I was completely surprised. I was expecting a typical bachelor pad, but that was not Edward's place at all. Everything was very modern and just beautiful.

As I take a step around him to get a better look at the apartment I can feel him standing very close to my back. In fact, I can actually feel his light breaths in my ear and it sends a delightful shiver down my spine.

"Would you like a drink?" he asks in the single most sexual voice I have ever heard.

"Please." I can't help but squeak.

"Water, soda, or beer?" How can this guy just make drink choices sound so sexual?

"Just water, thank you." I try to get ahold of myself. I am never this out of control of my own body.

After Edward gets us both a bottle of water, we sit down on the couch. I can't help but notice Edward sets a lot closer than was necessary, but still far enough away to keep me from freaking out. I am weary though when he pulls my feet in his lap, takes off my sandals, and starts rubbing my feet, but I don't protest, it feels too good.

But once again he knows something is on my mind. "Is this ok sweet girl? I'm sorry I didn't ask first."

"No." I reply quickly before he stops. "It just...oh god this is going to sound truly pathetic."

He doesn't say anything just gives me a minute.

"It's just no one has ever touched me before, other than the quick hug from my father and the occasional handshake. I mean being an 18 year old virgin is bad enough, but I have never even had my feet rubbed by a guy before."

To my relief, he continues to rub my feet as he thinks about what I just said.

"Maybe that's your big problem with your writer's block. How can you write about that which you have no experience with?" He finally says. "How can you describe the deep relief of a hot wet kiss, how can you describe the hot wet beautiful torture of running your tongue over another's as you embrace each other passionately?"

He looks directly into my eyes as he continues to speak. "How does one describe the feeling of a man's strong, sure hands massaging, rolling and pinching darkened, hardened, pebbled nipples if they have never experienced it for themselves. Or the hard, solid feeling of a man's chest as she drags her nails down to the button of his jeans."

By this time my breathing had picked up noticeably, I was practically panting. I look down to realize he was rubbing further up my legs, which were still in his lap. It was then that I realized that I wasn't the only one affected by his words. And for some reason this pleased me greatly.

"How can you describe the singular taste that can only be granted by bring a woman to her climax, tongue buried deep inside of a hot wet pussy, as to not waste one drop. In what way would you know how to describe the truly amazing feeling of a beautiful woman's full submission as she looks up at him from her knees as she pleasures his hard aching cock with her mouth and hands? You know that a woman is never in greater control in a relationship than when she is on her knees.

He stops for a moment, as if to steel himself, for whatever it is that he is about so say next.

"Let me show you all these things and more Bella. Let me show you the physical beauty of the pictures you so often try to paint with your words."

"Yes." I whisper.

He lowers my legs and stands up holding out his hand. This time I don't hesitate to put my hand in his.

I am surprised, however, when he takes me to stand in the middle of the room and just stands in front of me.

"I'm going to show you wonders you have never imagined, but remember you can stop this at any time ok." he says quietly.

I simply nod.

"God you have the most amazing lips I have ever seen. I bet they taste delicious. Sweet and soft and savory."

With that, he bends over and for the first time in my life I feel another's lips on mine. Without thinking about it too much I give over to instincts, my lips moving, tasting, and savoring the flavor that is perfectly Edward. It is everything a first kiss should be and I know right then I am not making a mistake.

"So fucking delicious, just like I thought." Edward whispers in my ear, running his hands up and down my sides. He continues to kiss down my neck to the collar of my shirt, then across the front, back up the other side only to claim my lips again.

"Please." I whimpered. Not even sure what it is exactly I am begging him for, just knowing that I need something that only he could provide.

"Patience sweet girl, I'm going to make you feel more than you have ever felt in your life. I know exactly what you want, in fact, I can already feel the heat coming off that tight little pussy of yours." He snarled sending chills down to my bones again.

I can't believe he actually just said that to me, no one has ever spoken like that to be before. My mind says I should be completely insulted, but instead I can feel a tightening in my center. I had never been turned on like this before and this new sensation was much more intense than I expected.

"Now, first thing we must do is get you out of these clothes. I want to see the stunning body I just know is hidden under baggy, unassuming tee shirts and jeans." And with that be grabs the hem of my shirt and slowly moves it up my body.

I know I can stop him if I want to or if I was too uncomfortable, but the thought of doing so never crosses my mind. Instead, I raise my arms and allow him to completely remove the item from my body, tossing it over on the couch without looking.

"Perfection." he whispers almost to himself as he looks down at the top half of my body, now bare except for the dark blue bra I put on at random this morning.

He runs his hands up my side again. This time not stopping until he is cupping both of my breasts in his hands. His thumbs run lightly over both cloth covered nipples making my back arch and thrust further into him.

He leans over and runs his nose lightly over the top of each once before planting a light butterfly kiss on top.

I can't help the noises that are coming out of my mouth. They sound strange to my own ears, almost like I'm purring or meowing. I wonder absentmindedly if it's normal to imitate animals when turned on.

"What's the matter sweet girl? Does this feel good? Does the feel of my lips and tongue turn you on, make you wetter for me?" he asks tracing the contours of my breast with his tongue dipping into the cup but not touching my nipple.

"Yes. Please, more. I need more." I beg shamelessly before I finally run my fingers through his hair.

His hair is one of the most amazing things I've ever gotten my hands on. It's so soft. I scratch lightly at the scalp and he seems to enjoy it.

As I'm playing with his hair he moves his hand to my back and before I even realize he's done it, unsnaps my bra. My skin buzzes from the heat of his eyes as he takes in my naked breast. My nipples tighten, due to a mixture from the cold air and his penetrating gaze.

Without a word he leans over and takes one of my stiff nipples into his mouth. First sucking lightly, he then bites down with just the slightest pressure before removing his mouth and blowing on it lightly.

I am practically sobbing as he switches sides and shows the left one the same amount of attention. I don't know how to think straight. This is so amazing. I feel a tightening in the pit of my stomach as he continues to go back and forth, adding his hands to the mix.

"Something." I say breathlessly "Something's happening. I can't control it, it's too much. Please Edward."

He removes his mouth and goes to stand behind me, but does not remove his hands. Both are now torturing my nipples and I can't take it anymore. I feel like something has to give, like I'm about to explode.

"That's it sweet girl, just feel. Feel my hands on your body demanding and offering, pushing and pulling, giving and taking. You're going to come. I can feel it. Come for me beautiful Bella. Give me your first orgasm and I promise it will be the first of many. Come now."

With that, he pinches down on both nipples at the same time and bites into the juncture where my shoulder and neck meet. I cry out as something burst inside of me and I fall limp into his arms.

I feel my underwear flood with my wetness, but I can't bring myself to care. All I want is to be held in this man's arms for as long as he will let me. The feel of his hot skin on mine is both a balm and a burn, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

He leads me over to the couch and helps me sit down on his lap.

"So sweet girl, you just had your first orgasm. What did you think about it?" I can hear the cocky tone in his voice but I don't even care.

"That was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced in my life. How were you able to do that without even touching me below my waist?" I can't help but wonder.

"I can read your body. It's so clear to me exactly what you want and need. I can't explain it but it's like I can almost read your mind." His answer is so honest it's disarming.

We don't say anything else for a few more minutes, just basking in each other's presence.

"So sweet girl, does this give you some ideas on what you should write about?" He finally asks after a while.

My brain is so blissed out that it takes me a few minutes to figure out what he is talking about. When I finally realize, I can't help but bury my head in his chest. I can feel my face turn red as I nod in acknowledgment of his inquiry. I definitely know what I want to write about, I just hope he doesn't have a problem with being the star of my entry.

We are just sitting on the couch, me naked from the waist up, talking when I hear a bang on his door and a woman yelling for Edward to answer the door. She yells that she sees his car so she knows he's home and he can't hide from her forever.

I feel so stupid and used. I should have realized. Men like him are never interested in women like me.

I stand and quickly put back on my shirt, forgoing my bra in my haste to depart. I grab my bag and make my way to the door. I haven't even gone three steps before I feel his hand wrap around my arm. I turn to look back at him as he opens his mouth.

"It's not what you think." he promises me.

Ok so I know this is a semi cliffhanger. Don't worry, I won't do this often. Truth is told I don't particularly like them, so this will probably be one of the only ones in the story. That being said, I'm hoping to get chapter two up in about a week, schedule permitting. I have a second fic I'm in the process of starting so I'll probably be bouncing between the two. Let me know what you think and I promise to have the next part up right away. Thanks for reading and reviewing.


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